


Dropped Calls

by orphan_account



Series: On The Line [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-01-29
Packaged: 2017-11-27 10:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2 of On the Line</p>
<p>Sam hurriedly snapped open his laptop and set himself up for wifi.<br/>"So, you think he's working for someone?" He offered, logging in.<br/>"I don't know what to think... he's hiding something."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dropped Calls

The unsurprisingly dingy motel room was insignificantly similar to the hundreds of others they've been to. Sam hurriedly snapped open his laptop and set himself up for wifi.

"So, you think he's working for someone?" He offered, logging in.

"I don't know what to think... he's hiding something." Dean snapped his cell shut after speaking with the phone company to turn on the GPS. "Are you on?"

"Dean we're in the middle of nowhere, internet isn't exactly lightning speed around here." Sam replied with a sigh. "Look, I know you're worried, but Cas is a grown man... or ... angel."

"An angel with a previous God complex, demonic hallucinations bad enough to get him locked in the nut house, and a trip to purgatory to ice the crazy cake." He couldn't stop pacing the room, running his hands through his hair and fidgeting to keep his sleeves above his elbows. He kept glancing down at the phone in his hand with impatience.

"It's been two hours, he's not gonna call." Dean's boy problems stopped being funny about an hour ago and were starting to chip away at Sam's nerves. "Could you sit?"

"I'll sit when I know what's going on." Garth hadn't exactly been comforting. He told the Winchesters there wasn't much they could do if what he was doing truly was the will of heaven, they better not poke the bear. But leaving shit alone just wasn't the Winchester way.

Sam tried ineffectively to lighten the mood."Never pegged you for the clingy type, but I should have known-" Dean shot him a look that said shut up or I'll shut you up. "Alright, so what are we gonna do? He could be anywhere." He wanted to help his brother but he wasn't sure of what they could do. The laptop finally logged in to track the phone. Sam's eyes pinned down the tracker on the screen. "I got him." Dean was quickly over his shoulder seeing that he was somewhere over a rural area in Iowa.

"Son of a bitch better pick up." Dean dialed and shoved his phone to his ear.

***

Bright light caused Cas to squint despite himself as he once again found himself in the eerily familiar room in what he was told was heaven. The chair he sat in made him feel minute compared to the woman across the desk who relaxed, superior in her charge.

"You've done well Castiel, He would be proud." Her voice was thick like molasses, the smothering smugness of it made his empty stomach churn. 

"I am finished with your instructions." He stated his voice cold with distaste. He didn't want to be here. This place gave him a blinding headache. Too white walls bombarded his vision. The silence and stillness made his ears ring. It reminded him of a familiar hospital. Naomi gave him a smile.

"You are a soldier. You will be finished when I give the order." Her voice was rather soft and gentle, ill fitting to the demands she gave. He moved to argue, but she held up a well-manicured finger to halt him. "You might want to get that." The ringing in his ears grew louder, and then began to develop into a tune. He reopened his eyes to the midst of a field. An old barn creaked in the night wind behind him.

The phone in his pocket buzzed and rang. He pulled it out of his pocket to read the number: _Dean's 2nd cell_.

Cas glared blankly out into the night. He felt odd, as if there was something that he couldn't remember. Something he needed, something important. He felt in his pockets to find them empty. _Huh._ He felt a small trickle down the side of his nose like a stray tear. He wiped the sticky ooze from his eye with little curiosity. Something in the back of his mind told him not to worry about it.

Then he heard it, the familiar call. Somewhere out in the vast spans of the world a small baby cried, stricken with pneumonia. He abandoned the field to answer the desperate mother's prayers, leaving behind the forgotten nothing that slipped his mind. Letting it ring unheard in the dirt.

***

"You should sleep." Sam tried coaxing his brother onto the questionably colored mattress. "You're in no shape to drive all the way to Iowa. Its three a.m., just go to bed." Dean didn't respond other than a worried sigh, as if he could sleep. Dressed in his usual boxers and stained tee, he lied flat facing the ceiling under the stiff sheets. His pillows propped up awkwardly against the headboard so he was better elevated.

"Sammy?" He asked, still looking at the water stains in the plaster.

"Goh tuh sleephf." Sam buried his face in the flat pillow, muffling his words. Dean could see he was not in the listening mood. Maybe he was freaking out too much, but that was what he did. He had to be there to protect Sam, and when he was M.I.A., it was Ben and Lisa. He'd let too much get broken and screwed up already. He wasn't going to let it happen again, not with Cas' track record as bad as it is.

He only slept when his eyelids could no longer hold their own weight. And he dreamt, peaceful dreams. He was little again, no older than three or four. His mother baked pie in the kitchen, sitting toddler dean on the counter so he could watch as she filled the insides with ripe red cherries. In another he was older, Sam slept beside him curled up like a cat while he waited for his dad to come home from a hunt. Snow flurried outside the window and an old episode of Scooby-Doo played quietly on the old motel TV. They were quiet memories, simpler things, here to tell him that it wasn't all bad. They usually found a way out of trouble, even some pretty damn impossible situations. It was enough comfort to keep him lulled in sleep until morning.

Sam was already up, he'd picked up breakfast for the two of them, his food half eaten as he clicked and clacked away at his laptop. He didn't say anything as Dean headed to the bathroom for a hot shower. Dean let his mind swim in the passing memories of his dreams as the steamy water sputtered from the showerhead. Content for once, with just forgetting.

He exited the bathroom, pulling on his shirt and headed straight for the bagged food on the table that his stomach growled for. He ripped open the bag and unraveled the breakfast burrito with a smile that felt foreign on his face.

"Sammy, you ok?" He hadn't said a word all morning. He pulled his eyes away from the screen with some effort, blinking from the strain.

"I just," He made a worried click with his tongue. "I don't get it."

"What?" Dean asked through a mouth full of burrito.

"Okay, so Cas is in Iowa right? But he isn't near any major roads or towns. He's just kind of out there. And the closest thing to anything human is this old barn that from here," he pulled up a bird's eye view from Google earth. ", Looks like it hasn't been touched in thirty years at least. And looking up current news from nearby town shows nothing out of the ordinary. Not even a case of the flu. Yet," He clicked back to the GPS tracker. ", Cas hasn't moved since last night. He's just... out there."

"Huh," Dean picked up his phone off the table.

Sam stopped him. "I already called him, no answer." It didn't take long for Dean to decide their next move.

"Iowa, here we come." Dean mumbled through his last bit of breakfast before running to get their duffle bags.

***

The baby's cries softened and then quieted immediately after a touch from Castiel's first two fingers on his soft chest. The pneumonia pulled with relief from the poor child's lungs. The mother slept in the stiff looking chair next to the hospital bed, her forehead wrinkled with worry. He wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb and as the strain of her concern melted from her brow, she slept peacefully.

 

 

 

 


End file.
